


Unlikely Teammates

by Heavenbat



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Gen, Kei's Crew, Original Species, Vortian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenbat/pseuds/Heavenbat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matvei finds a flyer advertising a job. In desperate need of protection from the Irken Empire, he embarks on a wild goose chase around the galaxy, and meets a very bubbly Vortian girl along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Flier

**Author's Note:**

> *This was an application for entry into an RP group.  
> **Ciujins are a race of my own creation.  
> ***Kitty and Matvei are the only characters that belong to me.

The space station was bustling with life and activity, aliens of all shapes and sizes flooding to and from the lobby. Among them, nearly inconspicuous, was a teal-skinned, four-eyed alien; his skin was striped with magenta, his ears were fin-like, and he had a pair of thin wings protruding from under the black and white poncho he wore. His face was like thunder, dark and glowering, and even in the thick crowd he somehow managed to avoid coming into contact with anyone. Perhaps it was the aura of irritability that he practically exuded, or perhaps it was thanks to his deft movements which kept him away from coming into contact with any of the throngs of people around.

Regardless, as soon as he was successfully past security—having bypassed it as he had done so many times before (it was all too easy to do; if you looked angry enough, people didn't like to look at you or make eye contact, not even security guards, and then all it took was waiting for the perfect moment when the officer was looking somewhere else, and then a quick dart and he was through, onto the station)—he immediately began scanning the various advertisement boards and bulletins.

“Of course they're all in fuckin' Irken,” the alien—Matvei—grumbled to himself, more a growl than an actual statement. It made himself feel better, somehow, to complain about the writing being in Irken... even if he knew full well that, really, it didn't matter what language the words were written in. He wouldn't have been able to read them anyways.

And yet, he had been running this gambit long enough to have picked up some of the basics—such as what combination of symbols meant “job” or “employment” or anything of the sort. And that's what he was scanning for: any sign or bulletin or posting with those precious symbols on them. Getting onto the station wasn't the hard part; Getting back off the station and onto a ship that was headed somewhere was the hard part.

Matvei had been hitchhiking and ship hopping for years now, enough to have learned how to work the system. Get in, get a job, take that ship to its destination, and get off. Rinse and repeat. By now he had traveled to more planets and stations and asteroids than he had even known existed. But at least he was away from Irk. As a Ciujin, he was one of the many species that had been enslaved by the Irken Empire, and as such Irk held nothing but unpleasant memories and prejudice. Which was why he had this whole song and dance going—to get as far away from Irk as possible.

And yet, as he scanned the advertisement boards, he became increasingly agitated. The fact of the matter was... there was nothing there. No jobs advertised. He swore under his breath, glancing towards the station's large bay doors. Maybe it wasn't too late to abandon ship... except, no, it was too late. There were only a few people left in line to exit, definitely not enough to hide himself in, which meant he was stuck here.

“Great. Just fuckin _great,_ ” he muttered to himself, his fin-like ears flattening in a mix of frustration and fear. This meant he'd probably have to resort to stealing food or stowing away on someone's ship. Not that he particularly minded stealing food as a principle—Irkens had more than enough to spare anyways—it just made it a whole lot more likely that he'd get caught, which could possibly lead to him getting enslaved again. The same thing went for stowing away on someone's ship—while it was simple enough to sneak onto a big station like this, smaller ships tended to have better security and tended to notice if someone unwanted was on board.

He went to turn away in a huff when one small paper caught his eye; it had that key phrase printed on it, along with a whole lot of other words and a few numbers too. It looked inconspicuous enough... And so he reached out and snatched the paper off the wall and turned and walked away, paper clutched in his paw-like hand. Now all he had to do was find a computer lab so he could translate the rest of the words.

\--------------------

It took a good few hours to locate the computer lab (as he had found out, this space station in particular was _huge_ ), but when he did he sighed with relief; the lab was still empty, presumably because the new passengers were getting settled in and because it was the middle of the day. Nobody ever seemed to want to use the public computers in the middle of the day. Still, out of habit he quickly scanned the room a second time, his four amber eyes scrutinizing the room as if suspicious of the room itself as he crossed to a far corner and sat down in front of one of the monitors. It powered up easily enough, greeting him with a quiet, “ _Greetings. What is your first instruction?_ ”

“Read this out loud,” he stated, holding up the piece of paper in front of the camera.

“ _Affirmative_ ,” the computer answered, emitting a beam of light before announcing, “ _Notice for Employment. Looking for able bodies to join a crew of Pirates. Must have useable skill. Trained fighters preferred. Also looking for medic, chef, and IT specialist._ ”

Matvei's fin-ears perked up at the mention of chef and he actually cracked what might pass as a smile. They were looking for a chef! Perfect! But... _pirates_?

“ _Below are coordinates to the first rendezvous point as well as a clue,_ ” the computer continued, “ _At this location you must find the coordinates and clue for the next location. There will be five locations in total. Keep this paper with you at all times as it will be used to track your progress._ ”

At this, Matvei looked warily at the piece of paper. “The hell...?” he muttered; how would a _paper_ be able to track him? He held it up to the light, scanning for anything that made it look out of the ordinary as the computer continued on, undisturbed by his reactions.

“ _Once you reach the final destination, you will meet with the Captain and be interviewed for your position. Consider this a test of your skills and intellect. Zimeron Galaxy 56 degrees L 80 degrees B,_ ” (Matvei could only assume these were the coordinates that the flier had mentioned earlier). “ _Place your bets, pour your beer, this hunk of rock is a place to fear. Request a Blue Moon from the barkeep if you wish to continue!_ ” And then, in a louder tone, as if to match the bigger text at the bottom of the page, the computer finished with a bold, “ _Join Kei's Crew!_ ”

Matvei sat in silence for a few minutes, processing what he had just heard. There was a _pirate crew_ that was apparently looking for, among other things, a chef. And they had papers that could track people. _Pirates._

His mind kept going back to that one word; it was the only thing that was holding him back from applying immediately. It was one thing to be a stowaway and a petty thief; it was an entirely different thing to join up with a band of actual pirates. That'd put him in direct danger, the sort of stuff that could get him killed, or worse, locked up again. And for all he knew, this could be a trap! After all, what kind of pirate would just leave a flier sitting out in a busy space station where anyone, even law enforcement, could see? And if it really was tracking him...

But, then again, wasn't this using exactly the tactics he had used? Hiding in plain sight, disguising oneself amongst the masses, unnoticed except by those who were actually looking. And maybe being associated with a big bad crew of pirates could get him some protection from the Empire...

“Computer!” he barked, not looking up from the piece of paper. Though he couldn't read the words, he was staring intently at them as if he expected them to make the decision for him. “Tell me about Kei.”

“ _Affirmative,_ ” the computer answered, displaying a profile image of a dark-skinned female Irken with intense looking red eyes and antennae that were so long they went off screen. She looked... fierce, confident, and just a little scary. Then again, the scariness might have been because she was Irken.

“Of course she's gotta be fuckin' Irken,” he muttered, his lip pulling back in a sneer. “Fuckin' Irkens playing both sides, runnin' everything...”

“ _Name: Keita. Alias: Kei. Age: Unknown. Origin: Unknown,_ ” the computer listed off, heedless of his grumbling. “ _Height: Unknown. Status: Unknown._ ” There were a dozen more unknowns after that, most of which Matvei stopped paying attention to, instead mulling over the fact that she even _had_ any unknown information. It meant she had been able to take herself off the Empire's grid... which meant that in theory she could do the same for him. Eventually, the computer began to list information that _was_ on the database. “ _Currently a wanted fugitive of the Irken Empire. Crimes: Piracy, murder, larceny, embezzling, burglary, destruction of Empire property..._ ”

“Okay okay I get the picture! She's got a fuckin' rep, now shut up,” Matvei growled, reaching up a hand to scratch at the side of his face in thought.

“ _Current bounty: Three million monies. End file._ ”

Matvei stopped mid-scratch, staring blankly at the screen as he processed that last bit of information. Three. Million. Monies. That's how much money this woman had sitting on her head. That was more money that Matvei could even _imagine_. “Mother fuck. How is that woman still _alive_?” he whispered in awe. He glanced back down at the paper, then up at the screen to stare at the Irken woman's face. Then back down again. If this woman could stay alive despite a bounty that big on her head... she just might be able to keep him alive, too. And all he had to do was suck up his dislike for Irkens and cook every now and then—which was basically what he had been doing for the past few years. Hell, it might even be less stressful, not having to constantly jump ships and such. He'd finally have a _home_ , which he heard was a very desirable thing to have—not that he'd know, since he'd never really had one.

“... Fffffffuck, computer! Read this paper again!” he ordered, listening and thinking intently as the computer once again read aloud the contents of the flier. There was still that voice in the back of his head that warned him it might be a trap, but with each passing moment that voice was growing quieter and quieter. Still, he couldn't take that chance... not completely.

“Show me coordinates of Zimeron Galaxy, 56 degrees L 80 degrees B,” he commanded finally, staring intently at the screen as it pulled up a mapping program that zoomed through a galaxy to finally focus in on a lone asteroid, populated only by a single building.

“ _Location found. Notable landmarks: None. Known as the home of the Long Shot bar, a popular stop for all, regardless of affiliation._ ”

“So it wasn't kidding about a bar... hm. Seems like a place a pirate'd meet...” he muttered. And definitely not like the place a law enforcer would go for a meeting. He glanced down at the paper one last time... and then carefully folded it up and stuck it in the pouch he wore hanging off his belt.


	2. The Long Shot Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matvei's journey takes him to a bar, where he makes an unlikely alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This was an application for entry into an RP group.  
> **Ciujins are a race of my own creation.  
> ***Kitty and Matvei are the only characters that belong to me.

It took nearly a week, with all the ship hopping and bargaining and stowing away he had to do, but finally Matvei stood before the Long Shot bar. It was nothing special, a standard bar really... with a standard bar smell. He crinkled his nose a little at the smell, making a mental note to _not_ eat here (and hoping that the Blue Moon wasn't an appetizer) before steeling himself to enter. He hunched his shoulders, burying his chin in the fluffy collar of his poncho, and stalked into the bar.

Once inside, he made a beeline for the bar, skirting past the tables and the patrons, back to radiating his aura of irritability. He found a barstool that was far enough separated from any others that he felt comfortable. And then he waited.

Soon enough, the bartender—a Vortian man with rich purple skin and arms that were covered in tattoos—crossed over to where Matvei was sitting, scanning him over with interest in his bright yellow eyes.

“Well, I don't think I've ever seen anything like you before. What're you, and what you having?”

“None of your fuckin' business for the first, and I'll take a Blue Moon,” Matvei snapped back, his ears flattening. Of _course_ the Vortian didn't know what he was. Most of his species was still in captivity.

The Vortian straightened up, his gaze now cold instead of interested. “That's no way to be asking for something, especially something that _special_ ,” the barkeep said, crossing his arms.

“Just give me the fuckin' Blue Moon! I ain't here to be polite or make friends,” Matvei snarled back, hunching his shoulders further, giving the appearance of the white fur collar fluffing up in indignation.

Now the barkeep unfolded his arms, cracking his knuckles and full-out glaring at Matvei. He opened his mouth to say something... but before he could, was interrupted by a new voice, female, light and cheerful.

“Excuse me! Did I hear you say you were getting a Blue Moon too?”

Both Matvei and the barkeep turned to look at the newcomer; she was a Vortian woman with pastel pink skin, dressed in various shades of pink, with trailing coattails in bright magenta and charms hanging off her curving horns which very nearly formed a heart shape over her head.

“Sorry to interrupt! I just overheard you two, and I thought, what a coincidence that someone else was here at the same time as me and looking for a Blue Moon too!” the Vortian said, sitting down on a stool next to Matvei, grinning at the barkeep who now seemed much more interested in her than in Matvei. “Oh, by the way, I'm Kitty!” She stuck out a hand for the barkeep to take, which he did with a very large smile on his face.

“And I'm Hel. It's nice to meet you, and nice to see that _some_ people still have manners,” the barkeep answered, glaring at Matvei again with his last words.

“I think he's just a little cranky cause he looks like he hasn't had a good meal in a while. Maybe we could get some food along with that Blue Moon?” Kitty suggested, leaning on the counter and smiling at Hel, her purple eyes half-lidded.

Matvei leaned away, his expression changing to a look of disgust. Not only was the thought of eating here thoroughly unappetizing, but now this Vortian chick was _flirting_ with the barkeep, and it was making Matvei very, very uncomfortable. Still, at least Kitty seemed to have diffused Hel's fury.

Hel himself leaned in on the other side of the counter, returning Kitty's smile as he pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table... but he didn't release it. Not yet. “You're not gonna just take this and run, are you? It'd be a shame... it's not often we get little rays of sunshine like yourself in here.”

“That's cause they're all scared away by the smell,” Matvei mumbled under his breath; luckily, the two Vortians seemed to be too busy staring into each others' eyes to have heard him.

“Well, if everything pans out, I might not have a lot of time to come back to this bar specifically, but it might be doable if we met up somewhere in the middle?” Kitty suggested, reaching out to set her hand on top of Hel's. “Like maybe at a restaurant or somewhere you don't have to work?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. It's a deal then. Good luck; I'll be rooting for you, sweetie.”

“Aw, thank you!” Kitty answered as Hel released the piece of paper, which she then slid into one of her own pockets. “I'm looking forward to it,” she added with a wink.

With that, Hel straightened up; one of the other patrons at the bar had just tapped his drink, signaling that he wanted a refill. “Alright then. Take care, and I'll be seeing you later,” Hel said with a wink.

“Hey! Wait, what about our drinks? We ordered two Blue Moons!” Matvei interjected indignantly, earning another glare from Hel.

“There is no such thing as a Blue Moon, dumbass. But for the record, even if it was, I wouldn't give it to you. Now get out of my bar.” Hel snorted, then turned around and crossed to the drink-less patron.

Matvei growled, practically bristling; he moved to stand up, ready to lunge across the bar, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He automatically recoiled, whirling to glare at whoever had touched him... to only see Kitty there.

“Whoa there, calm down buddy. Look, you seem... really desperate to get this job. Maybe it'd be a good idea to not go starting fights with the people who are here to help us?” She suggested, her voice calm. “C'mon, let's take a look at what this note says, hmm?”

She pulled the piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolding it and smoothing it out on the counter, placing it so they could both read it... in theory. As she sat in silence and scanned over the words, Matvei shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then finally ran a hand through the dread-like locks that sprouted from his head.

“I, uh. I can't read,” he mumbled, too embarrassed to be irritated at her for expecting him to be able to.

Kitty glanced up sharply, a strange look on her face. “You... how'd you know to get here then?”

“I had a computer read it out loud,” Matvei replied, crossing his arms under his poncho, looking like an indignant bird that had fluffed its feathers out. “I'm illiterate, not _stupid._ ”

“That's _genius_!” Kitty replied, beaming. “Hey! Maybe we should work together then? I mean, I can read, and you're... and, yeah, it'd be great, cause we could help each other out!”

“I don't need your fuckin' charity,” Matvei grumbled... and then sighed. “It'll be a mutual thing. I'll cook, and use my brains, and you read and drive and use your...” he made a semi-dismissive hand motion, “People skills.”

“Oooh, you're a cook? How come you look like you haven't had a decent meal in forever then? My daddy liked to cook a lot, and he always looked a _lot_ happier than you...”

Matvei gave Kitty a blank stare, then sighed and rubbed his face. “Look. I ain't looking to make friends. This is gonna be a mutually beneficial thing, but we ain't gonna be friends. And I'm gonna make you a _decent_ meal so you don't keep tryin' to beg off food from this shithole. You got a ship?”

“... Yeah. It's not much but it's big enough it should fit the both of us. But if I'm gonna help you out, you've got to at least _try_ to be nice. We don't have to be friends, just... we can be civil, okay? Mutually beneficial.”

She stuck out her hand with a half-smile, waiting for Matvei to take it. He stared at it for a moment as if it was covered in slime, then sighed and grasped her three-fingered hand with his four-fingered paw.

“Deal. Now what does that paper say?”

“Let's see. It's got some more coordinates—this time for the Irken Galaxy, Irk to be specific... which, by the way, ew... and then it says 'back to our roots. Look for the pink light in the darkness. Inside you'll see.' Huh... hey, you okay?”

Matvei had gone pale, his ears flat and all four of his eyes widened in fear. They had to go to Irk? No, no, no, no—somewhere along the line he must've started saying it out loud because he was once again interrupted by a hand on his shoulder; this time he physically flinched away, his breathing still very rapid. “No, no, I don't want to go to Irk, it's not—I can't...”

“Hey, hey, hey, listen,” Kitty said, moving around into Matvei's line of sight. “We're in this together now, okay? I know Irk is scary—look, I'm a Vortian, we aren't exactly liked either, right? But if we work together, we can get through this. We'll make it quick, okay? Now come on, I'm actually hungry, and you were kinda right about how bad this place smells. Maybe you can make some actual food on my ship on the way?”


	3. A Light in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matvei, now accompanied by Kitty, is forced to face some of his worst fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This was an application for entry into an RP group.  
> **Ciujins are a race of my own creation.  
> ***Kitty and Matvei are the only characters that belong to me.

It took another couple of days to get back to Irk, and in that time Matvei had swung wildly from calm to panic and back to calm more times than he could count. He had spent most of that time holed up in the ship's kitchen, avoiding Kitty at all costs.

Kitty—her full name was Kit'tani Ulari, but she rarely went by that name—had left Matvei alone, mostly out of respect for the deal they had made. That, and once when she had tried to go into the kitchen to make conversation with him, he had thrown a pot at her. She briefly thought about kicking him off her ship then, but... he seemed so scared, so desperate. Like a caged animal that had been beaten. And she felt so bad for him... he really seemed to want this, and he really did make amazing food (just as good as her dad's, amazingly enough), he just didn't seem to know how to go about doing any of this. Plus, she knew he was amazingly clever behind his prickly wall, and two heads were always better than one.

So as they approached Irk, she found herself standing outside the kitchen, where Matvei was flitting around the kitchen, aimlessly going through the drawers and knocking pans about, his tail lashing in agitation.

“Hey...” she called out quietly, giving him a tiny smile as he whirled around to stare at her.

“What! What do you want?” he snapped, the gliders on his back fluttering.

“I was just gonna tell you we're almost at the coordinates. You... you can take one of the knives or something to defend yourself if it'd make you feel better?”

“What time is it?”

“... What? Why does that matter?”

Matvei shifted his gaze away from Kitty, looking around the kitchen. “Well, it's obvious—the clue said look for the pink light in the darkness, right? So we've got to be looking at dark. Which means we'll be less visible, which is good, but it's also bad because it means law enforcement's gonna be more suspicious of us, the racist assholes.”

“... Wow. I never would have thought of that. See, it's a good thing we teamed up!”

“Y...yeah. Yeah. So... take your ship to the exact coordinates, and we'll just have to keep to the shadows and find the pink light. That's our clue. And watch out for any law enforcement.”

“Right. Okay. But... hey, if we do run into any law enforcement, just let me take care of it, okay? I'll do my best to diffuse the situation, cause I'm better at talking to people, and if that doesn't work I'll just headbutt them right in the stupid Irken belly, 'kay?” Kitty offered, tapping her horns with a smile. With that, she turned and headed for the cockpit, leaving Matvei alone—she had learned by now that he liked to keep interactions to a bare minimum.

\-------------------------

As soon as night fell, and they reached their destinations, Kitty landed her ship on top of an abandoned building—there seemed to be a lot of them in this section of Irk. Or... at least, they were all warehouses, which tended to be deserted at night. As soon as the ship landed and powered down, Matvei and Kitty disembarked, onto the roof of the warehouse. Matvei walked up to the edge of the roof, peering down.

“Fuckin'... this isn't the right building. No pink light. I thought you had coordinates,” Matvei growled, turning to glower at Kitty.

“I did have coordinates, but they weren't exact. They only led to the general warehouse district. I'm assuming they're testing our ability to find things.”

Matvei sighed heavily, flattening his ears. “Right. Cause it's so fuckin' hard to find a pink light. C'mon, let's get off this roof.”

The two climbed down the fire escape, Matvei leading the way and Kitty trailing behind; Matvei seemed to know what he was doing, with the way he was moving, so she simply copied his movements to the best of her ability. As soon as they were on the ground, Matvei led them to the alley entrance. He leaned out, his ears now perked as high as they would go and his four eyes scanning around. Then, wordlessly, he darted out onto the street, leaving Kitty to follow him; he kept to the shadows and so did she, practically gluing herself to the wall.

He led them to the corner, glancing around; Kitty did the same, squinting into the darkness. There, down one of the streets, she saw it—not a pink light, but a faint pink glow. She reached up to tap Matvei on the shoulder; he jumped, whirling around and lashing out. There was a flash of white and then a sharp pain on her collarbone; she stumbled back, letting out a tiny yelp. She glanced down at her collarbone, grimacing at the four scratches that had raked her skin, then looked back up at Matvei. There was the light of fear in his eyes, which was slowly dying out, to be replaced by apprehension.

“Don't... don't fuckin' _do_ that, okay?” Matvei hissed, scooting back slightly... and looking as if he was expecting her to lash out again in return.

“... Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. But, I think I see the light. Just down there,” Kitty answered, pointing. Matvei swiveled around to peer down the street, and sighed.

“Right. Right. Let's go. And, next time, don't fuckin' touch me, okay? Just say my name or some shit.”

With that he set off to lead the way again—halfway down the street they had to duck into an alley and hide behind a dumpster to avoid being seen by a patrol, with Matvei practically shaking like a leaf the entire time. Kitty had let him be for a while (a lot longer than was really necessary) before getting up and pulling him along. Eventually they reached the door, illuminated by a single pink light.

“You think the door's unlocked?” Kitty asked, staring up at it.

“Hell if I know,” Matvei grumbled, scanning the streets again.

“...Guess there's only one way to find out,” Kitty said cheerfully, reaching out and turning the knob... which immediately opened. “C'mon, it's safer inside,” she said, darting in; Matvei followed suit, shutting the door firmly after them. “Okay, let's see... what'd the clue say again?”

“Inside you'll see,” Matvei answered, his voice sounding distant, distracted.

“Well that's... incredibly vague. I guess we just start looking for the next clue, huh? C'mon, let's get looking.”

 

It took an hour of searching—they even broke into some of the boxes and rifled through some of the offices. Most of what they found were rodents; Matvei kicked one into a wall. But eventually, they found it. Or, rather, Kitty found it; a simple, single slip of paper sitting in a pile of other blank papers.

“Okay, can we go back to the ship now? This place is giving me the creeps,” Kitty said, shoving the paper into a pocket.

“The sooner we're off this place the better,” Matvei replied, his voice tense.

Getting back to the roof was about the same as getting to the building in the first place—they had to stop to hide twice, but other than that, they reached the roof without incident. As soon as they were back on the roof, Kitty took the lead again, striding up to the hatch and pulling it open... and coming face-to-face with a gun pointed straight at her.


	4. Tensions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This was an application for entry into an RP group.  
> **Ciujins are a race of my own creation.  
> ***Kitty and Matvei are the only characters that belong to me.

“Put your hands where I can see them, both of you,” the gun's owner barked. She was a towering, well-muscled Irken woman dressed in full protective gear.

Kitty immediately obeyed, throwing her hands up and giving the officer a nervous smile. “Of course, ma'am! Can... can I ask what's wrong?”

“You're parked in an unauthorized spot, and you don't have security clearance to be wandering around here at night. Especially since there's been reports of heightened pirate activity around these parts.”

“Wha... pirates?” Kitty squeaked, feigning surprise. “That's not good! Me and my friend will be just—”

“You'll both be coming with us for interrogation. An unregistered ship manned by two thugs like yourselves landing in these parts... my guess is you're both thieves, at _best_. Now stay right there; no sudden moves, or—” The Irken's words were cut off suddenly as she let out a screech of pain and clutched at her shoulder, which now had a knife buried in it. Kitty took this as her signal to act; she jumped forward, grabbing the officer by the front of her shirt and pulling backwards, throwing her down the ramp and to the ground.

“Come on, let's get out of here!” Kitty shouted, turning to gesture at Matvei, who was already bolting towards the ship. He stopped once he reached the officer, only long enough to yank the knife out and deliver a swift, vicious kick to her stomach. And then another. And another.

“Hey!” Kitty shouted, wincing as another kick landed, “Come on, the sooner you get on the ship the sooner we can get away from Irk!”

That seemed to be enough to snap Matvei out of it; he glanced up sharply, a mix of rage and fear in his eyes, then back down to the guard. Kitty was almost worried he'd go back to kicking and she'd have to drag him onto the ship, but instead he sort of stumbled backwards, then scrambled towards the ship, pushing past Kitty and fleeing into the ship's interior. Kitty followed suit, first going to the cockpit to enter the next coordinates into the navigation system before heading towards the kitchen. She knew that's where she'd find Matvei.

Sure enough, he was there, rinsing off the knife in the sink. “What happened back there?” she asked, looking at him with concern.

Matvei glanced back at her over his shoulder, his eyes flicking down to the scratch marks still visible on her collarbone. “I told you, I don't like Irk. Now fuck off. Just cause I saved our asses doesn't mean we're friends.”

Kitty frowned, crossing her arms. “Okay, seriously, this is getting old. What is your _problem_? Why are you _such_ an asshole?”

“Because not everything's all sunshine and rainbows! Not everyone got a bright and happy fuckin' childhood and not everyone got to spend time with their loving daddy!” Matvei snapped, slamming down the knife and turning to face Kitty, a wild look in his eyes. He was hunching his shoulders again—she had noticed he tended to do that when he wanted to look intimidating or surly—and his gliders were flaring out... basically, she realized, he was trying to make himself look bigger than he really was, and she got the feeling it was because at this moment he was feeling very, very small.

“I actually never knew my real parents,” Kitty replied, meeting his eyes with her own. “I don't know whether they died or just abandoned me. I was adopted by an Irken couple.”

“Oh, well good for you! The closest thing I had to a parent was a fuckin' _overseer_ ,” Matvei paused, letting that sink in, before continuing in a much quieter, yet still just as angry, tone, “I grew up in a fuckin' slave compound. While you were out having happy fun times with your adopted family, I was getting beaten and abused and forced to work until my fingers bled and my feet almost fell off.” He had looked away from Kitty, and was now idly scratching at the metal bracers on his wrists. Kitty had a sudden sinking suspicion that she knew why he wore those now, a feeling that she knew what lay hidden under the cold metal.

She shouldn't have been surprised; she knew slavery was all too common among the Empire, and she should have put the signs together. That's why he had been so freaked out at the thought of returning to Irk, why he had lashed out at her on the streets, why he had reacted so badly to the officer. Everything seemed to click into place... except the answer to the question she had asked. Butshe didn't think she wanted to push any more.

“I put the coordinates in to the next location. It's away from Irk. The clue said 'that ugly plaid suit will be the death of him. Find my fence.' Which is weird because fences don't wear suits,” Kitty said, musing.

“That's because it means the kind of fence that pawns off stolen goods, you...” Matvei trailed off, clearly having been about to insult Kitty when he met her eyes again, and glanced down at the scratch once more. He seemed to think better of it then, so he simply turned around. “You might want to have some spare money on hand when we meet him. He's probably only going to speak if we bribe him.”

“Right. I'll come back and get you when we're there.”

The meal that Matvei cooked that night was especially good, one of the best that Kitty had ever had. Kitty was pretty sure it was because Matvei was still feeling guilty over having scratched her. She still wasn't sure how to feel about the whole thing, but more and more she had been feeling... sympathetic towards Matvei. He was an asshole, but Kitty had been raised by a man who was eerily good at reading people... a skill that Kitty had picked up on. And from what she had seen of Matvei, she had begun to pick up on things... like the fact that Matvei, for all his bluster, was really just scared most of the time. And the fact that he seemed to genuinely feel bad about having lashed out at her... It was giving her the impression that beneath his prickly exterior, he really did care. But it was buried under more layers of hurt and fear than he was even letting on. And Kitty didn't know how to handle this.


	5. Bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This was an application for entry into an RP group.  
> **Ciujins are a race of my own creation.  
> ***Kitty and Matvei are the only characters that belong to me.

It was easy enough to find the pawn shop—there was only one pawn shop near the coordinates listed on the piece of paper, and it was simply called Jimbo's Pawn Shop. Kitty thought it was a cute name; Matvei thought it was far too simple and therefore stupid. Regardless of the name, the pair soon found themselves walking into the shop. Matvei hadn't wanted to come in at first, but Kitty had insisted he did: while she was better at dealing with people, he had far greater knowledge of the black market than she did, and she knew that was valuable knowledge to have.

“But you _have_ to promise me you won't say anything rude to him, okay?”

“Fine,” Matvei grumbled, agreeing much more easily than Kitty expected. He seemed to notice the look of surprise on Kitty's face, because he explained, “These merchant types can get real picky and real sensitive. They're a buncha whiner babies. Money talks with them, but if you piss 'em off, even that won't work. Finicky bunch of bastards.”

“Ah. That's good to know. So you really don't think a winning smile will be good enough?” Kitty asked, beaming at Matvei as if to demonstrate. She still had a was of cash in her pocket just in case, but she felt like she needed to ask anyways. Plus, the look of disgust Matvei gave her was immensely amusing.

“Fuck no. Now put that thing away before I get sick,” he answered, waving his paw and brushing past her with a flick of his tail. The bell over the door jingled as they walked in, and almost immediately a small pair of antennae bobbed along behind the counter, followed shortly by a small, bug-like alien popping into view (presumably after having jumped up onto a chair).

“Ayy, welcome to Jimbo's shop! What youse two looking to buy? Youse looking for some pretty shiny things for the girl? Maybe, maybe a big shiny watch for the guy?” the roach-looking alien questioned, his antennae twitching. In fact, his antennae never seemed to _stop_ twitching.

If the roach's name hadn't been enough of an indicator that they were at the right place, the suit that he wore was practically a flashing sign; it was the single most hideous plaid suit that Kitty had ever seen, and from the glance that she shared with Matvei she knew he felt the same way.

Still, Kitty put on her biggest smile and walked—no, practically _bounced_ —up to the counter. “Nope! We're actually looking for information,” she said, producing the slip of paper from the last location.

Jimbo's expression changed to slight disappointment as he sighed and leaned on his hand. “'Ey, info's not free. Info's got a price too, just like goods,” he said wearily.

“Told you,” Matvei muttered under his breath.

“You're not helping!” Kitty hissed over her shoulder, then turned back to Jimbo, smiling again. “Okay. You want money. How much?”

“Hmmm... hows about three hundred monies,” Jimbo replied.

“Wha—oh, fi—” Kitty started, reaching for her pocket before Matvei nudged her. She paused, turning to glare at him, when he shook his head.

“Haggle first. It shows you're not just an idiotic mindless sheep,” the Ciujin instructed.

“Four-eyes is right. Makes ya look like tourists when ya give full price,” Jimbo chipped in.

“What, so I have to _guess_ what the actual price is?” Kitty asked, exasperated.

“No, that ain't what I said at all! Just—get out of the way, let me do this,” Matvei growled, pushing up to the counter and leaning on it, looming over the small bug-man. Jimbo leaned back slightly, almost cowering, as Matvei began haggling.

“Fifty monies.”

“What! That's a rip off! May as well sell out bosslady to the coppers! Two seventy-five.”

“Just had to see how low you'd go. How about we knock a couple hundred monies off that?”

“Two fifty.”

“Fine, let's bump it up to one twenty five, but that's as high as we're going.”

“One seventy five! 'Ey, this's important information, gotta be worth _somethin._ ”

“One twenty five and we _don't_ tell your boss lady that you're ripping potential crew members this much. I wonder if she'd approve of that... and I wonder if she'd approve of how much money you're making off this for yourself for doing nothing but sitting on your ass?”

“Hey! What'd I say about being nice?” Kitty finally interjected, having been watching the haggling like a ping-pong match. “I'm sorry about him, Mister Jimbo, he doesn't know what manners are. I think 125 monies sounds good though, don't you?”

Jimbo glared at Matvei for a minute before shrugging. “Yeah, sure. That's enough to make up for rude four-eyes.” With that, he reached into his plaid suit and pulled out another piece of paper, sliding it across the counter as Kitty pulled out the sufficient amount of cash and slid it back.

“Fantastic, now let's blow this joint,” Matvei was already turned around and headed out towards the door.

“You go on ahead, I'll catch up real quick!” Kitty called after him, waving him onwards.

A few minutes later she came bouncing back out, carrying a very pink handgun. She grinned at Matvei as he gave her a disbelieving look.

“What? It was pretty and I felt bad cause he seemed upset at never getting any real customers! Besides, I felt like I had to make up _someone's_ crankiness, and I had some extra monies.”

“Please tell me you didn't pay full price for that.”

“Of course not! I haggled it down to about half the original price!”

Matvei gave Kitty a look that she was pretty sure was a look of approval... but it was gone just as quick as it came, and he simply nodded and said gruffly, “Well at least ya ain't as dumb as ya look. What's the next clue?”

Kitty pulled the paper back out, unfolding it... and giving a look of dismay as she scanned down to the coordinates. “Uh oh...” she looked up at Matvei, watching his expression as she said, “The next one's back on Irk.”

Shock. Fear. Anger. Fear again, moving into terror, then panic.

“Hey! Hey hey, listen, this clue doesn't sound like we have to go there at night, and we'll make sure to be well armed this time, okay? I _promise_ you we'll make it in and out before anyone even knows we're there, okay? Please don't freak out on me.”

Matvei didn't freak out, not immediately at least. He just turned and strode back into Kitty's ship, his shoulders hunched.


	6. Irk pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This was an application for entry into an RP group.  
> **Ciujins are a race of my own creation.  
> ***Kitty and Matvei are the only characters that belong to me.

Three days later, they were back to hovering above Irk. Matvei was pacing restlessly behind Kitty, who was sitting in the pilot's seat and carefully reassembling her newly-bought gun.

“Alright. I've got the exact coordinates, but they just lead to an alleyway. What'd the clue say...” she began to unfold the piece of paper, but Matvei interrupted her, reciting from memory, sounding distracted.

“Find a hidden place on Irk's own soil, which helped to cause Irk's own foil, pass through the wall with no door, and keep your eyes on the floor. Goddamn riddles! They're sending us on a motherfuckin' scavenger hunt, one clue at a time, and so far it ain't done none of us any good. It's fuckin' pointless! I ain't a kid out lookin' for daisies—”

“Hey, look. It seems pointless but I'm pretty sure these are all a series of tests, to... to see if we're for real, and if we really want this, and if we have skills to keep ourselves alive and find things that need to be found.”

“It's fuckin' _stupid_ ,” Matvei grumbled, but seemed to accept Kitty's words.

“Hey, at least they're not giving us a written test, right?” she joked, turning to grin at him.

“Fuck off, this ain't a time for humor. We're walkin' right into the most dangerous place possible for people like us, we gotta take this _serious_.”

“Of course I'm taking this seriously. You have your way of handling stress, I have mine. But I said it before and I'll say it again—we're gonna be okay. We'll be armed and ready to go, and it'll be daylight so we won't look so suspicious.”

Matvei nodded, crossing his arms. He then glanced sharply up at Kitty, meeting her gaze with an intense stare. “Do you even know how to use that gun?” he snapped; normally Kitty would have been offended, but she could tell from the look on his face and the tone of his voice that he was trying to alleviate some of his fear by channeling it into anger, and, probably, just trying to reassure himself. “I mean you just bought it cause it was fuckin _pretty_.”

“Oh, right, I never told you. You ever wonder what position I'm applying for?”

“I was assuming you were thinking of being the team's personal ray of sunshine.”

“Ha ha. Nope. I'm gonna be the gunner. Or, one of them at least. You know what model of gun this is? It's a classic TL-175, modified mostly for aesthetics, but I think it's also been modified to have an increased rate of fire. Which probably means it'll be more prone to overheating, I'm not sure. I'm not quite as good with these handheld guns as I am with the big type of ship canons.”

Matvei stared at her, his expression one that Kitty couldn't quite read. “... The fuck? Really? Some gunner you are then, I ain't seen a single canon on the outside of the ship.”

“Well _duh_ , it doesn't look very good when you go around flying places and just have your canons hanging out everywhere! People tend to take that as a sign of aggression.”

“Speaking of that,” Matvei said, unfolding his arms. Kitty took that as a sign that he was calming down slightly, perhaps reassured by her knowledge of guns. “If we're gonna do this, we do it _my_ way. You listen to what I say, and even though we're armed we ain't gonna attack until _absolutely necessary_ , okay?”

“Aw, look at you, all concerned about killing the officers. I _knew_ you had a soul!”

“This ain't about protecting officers, it's about protecting _ourselves_ ,” Matvei snapped, his gliders fluttering in agitation. “The _minute_ we start attacking people, we put giant flashing targets on our heads.”

“Relax, I was joking. Coping mechanisms, remember?”

Matvei glared at her before sighing explosively, flattening his ears. “I know it's gonna be hard for you, but you need to look angry. Or at least pissed off. People don't like looking at angry people, so their eyes'll just slide right over you. Don't make eye contact with nobody, don't smile, just keep your head down and look like you're angry and you know where you're going.”

“How are we going to look around if we're keeping our heads down so much? We don't even know what we're looking for...”

“I have no fuckin' idea. We'll manage. 'A wall with no doors' is all the thing said. It ain't anything to go off of an' I can't figure out what it means.”

“Hmm... Probably some sort of hidden door, like covered with a cloaking device. If I had the right technology I could scan for it, but I don't, so... we're probably gonna have to search for it manually. Find all the doorless walls and just... start kicking 'em.”

“Yeah, _that_ ain't gonna be suspicious at all,” Matvei said sarcastically. “But I ain't got any better ideas.”

“Okay then. Let's go. I'll be right beside you,” Kitty said as she stood up, holstering her new gun and pulling out another from a compartment in the ship's dashboard. She held the gun out to Matvei, who shook his head.

“I ain't never shot one of those before. I'd probably do more harm than good. I've got some knives.”

“'Kay. I think we're as ready as we'll ever be, then,” she announced. And with that, the hatch opened up, revealing a parking lot—after last time, Kitty wasn't about to take any chances. They were parking exactly where they were supposed to be.

And then they set off, Kitty following Matvei's advice as closely as she could. It was hard for her to project as profound of an aura as Matvei did, but she could manage enough of it that, when she tagged along behind Matvei, she could make up for her lack of intimidation by simply riding along in the wake of Matvei's thundercloud.

It took nearly all day—the two went through more alleys than Kitty had ever seen in her whole life, checking all the walls... but that's all they were. Just walls. No hidden doors, no holograms, just wall after wall after wall.

The sun was just about beginning to set when Matvei, in a fit of frustration, kicked an empty can with all his might and sent it clanging down the alleyway. “Fuck! We ain't ever gonna find it! It's getting late, we need to be going now!”

“Wait—”

“No! Look, the sun's already setting, and soon it's gonna be night, and what'd I _tell_ you about doing it my way?!”

“Will you just _listen_? You remember that can you kicked?”

“Wh—the fuck do I care about a can?”

Kitty gestured to the alleyway... where there was no sign of the can. “It's gone. I saw it disappear, right into that wall. Right there.”

Matvei's ears perked up, his face a mask of disbelief. He opened his mouth as if to say something... but no words came out. So Kitty simply grabbed his hand and pulled, leading him towards the patch of wall. She held out a hand, going to touch it... but instead, her hand phased right through. She let out a wild, disbelieving laugh.

“Can you believe our luck? C'mon!”

“Wait! Remember what the note said. Keep your eyes on the floor.”

“How important do you think that was?”

“Important enough to make note of it, so I'd say pretty damn important. Keep your head down.”

“... Right. Okay.” Kitty said, lowering her eyes to the ground and pulling Matvei through the wall.

“ _Retinal scan activated,_ ” said a cold robotic voice. Matvei swore, diving to the ground, pulling Kitty down with him. And then... “ _Welcome back, Zor._ ”

“... The fuck?” Matvei whispered breathlessly, uncovering his head.

Kitty began giggling, which morphed into wild, nervous laughter. “Oh! Oh, oh god, it must be a glitch. That's why they wanted us to keep our heads down,” she said, her voice shrill and nervous. “I thought we were gonna... Oh man I really don't want to find out what kind of security this place has. Let's find the next clue and get out of here.”

“Found it,” Matvei mumbled, nudging Kitty. She lifted her head slightly to look at where Matvei was pointing; scratched in the floor was another message.

“Great! Let's see if I have a paper, I'll write it down—”

“Just read it out loud. I'll remember it,” Matvei snapped.

He had a point; now that Kitty thought about it, he seemed to have remembered each of the previous clues after only hearing them once.

“Um... okay, it says 'Irken Galaxy, Conventia, 77° L 50° B. Find the TRUE pirate queen.”

“Oh thank fuck it's not on Irk. Don't like it being on Conventia, but it's better than Irk.” Matvei pulled himself up to his feet, keeping his eyes down on the floor. Kitty followed suit, carefully standing up.

“Freeze! Stay right where I can see you! You're both under arrest!” A familiar voice broke the silence as an Irken—Matvei and Kitty could only see her boots from this angle, but somehow they both knew it was the Irken officer from the last time they had been on Irk—suddenly appeared through the door... followed by another, then another. “Put your hands where I can see them, scum. You think you can get away with beating an officer?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kitty saw Matvei stiffen... right before the cold metallic voice rang out.

“ _Retinal scan activated,_ ” and then, a moment later, “ _Intruders detected. Activating security protocol._ ”

There came the noise of hinges, old and unused, opening up from the ceiling. Kitty grabbed Matvei and pulled him back a couple of steps... just in time for the sound of the 'security measures' clicking into place, closely followed by a hissing noise. And then screams. Kitty raised a hand to shield her eyes from the scanner above in time to see the Irken officers being drenched by a viscous black liquid... and then literally start dissolving before her very eyes. They went quick, thankfully, the black liquid eating through their armor, their clothes, their skin, their bones—even their Paks. In the space of one and a half minutes, every last trace of the officers had disappeared, including the black liquid itself. It was as if it had managed to dissolve itself in the process, not even leaving a single drop on the wooden floor.

“ _Intruders eliminated_ ,” announced the robotic voice, suddenly sounding much more sinister than before. “ _Base secure._ ”

And then there was silence, stunned silence, as Kitty and Matvei digested what had just happened.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Kitty swore, breaking the trance; as if on cue, the two bolted simultaneously for the door, blasting out into the alley and fleeing into the street, pushing through the crowd and making a beeline for Kitty's ship, caution thrown to the wind.

Once they were safely on board, thoroughly winded, Kitty collapsed in the pilot's chair and Matvei simply sat on the floor.

“That was _hella_ messed up,” Kitty panted.


	7. Final Destination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This was an application for entry into an RP group.  
> **Ciujins are a race of my own creation.  
> ***Kitty and Matvei are the only characters that belong to me.

It took less than a day to travel to Conventia, but Kitty and Matvei decided to take the evening to simply rest. It had been a long week, especially after the events on Irk. Matvei was currently in the kitchen, as usual, simply pacing around the kitchen, trying to absorb what all had happened. He was still in shock after having been to Irk twice within the last week, running into officers both times, the second time having to watch them dissolve before his very eyes... This, on top of having to live in such close quarters with a stranger. Yes, he had done a lot of ship-hopping in the past, all with complete strangers, but usually that was on larger ships where he could hole himself up in a corner and not have to interact with anyone. This... this Vortian was right there, and kept going out of her way to not only tolerate his actions, but accept them. And despite that she seemed to respect his desire to avoid becoming friends. She had kept up her level of cheerfulness, but he had a feeling she was at least trying to tone it down around him. And... he didn't know how to feel about this. So he had decided to spend as little time around her as possible. He _couldn't_ let himself get attached to her.

The next day, Kitty walked into his kitchen, knocking on the door frame. “Hey, so, we're on Conventia... and it's probably a good idea to start looking early. This is the last stop... do you think we're gonna have the interview here?”

“I don't know. I hope so. I don't want to go to any more fuckin' stops, and the sooner this ends, the sooner we can get some more space.”

“... Right. So what'd the last clue say again?”

“Find the true pirate queen.”

“Wonder what that means?”

“Guess we're gonna have to fuckin' find out,” Matvei answered irritably.

He pushed past Kitty, sensing her trailing behind him as he made his way through and then out of the ship. As soon as they were out of the ship, they were hit with a wall of noise and activity; true to its name, Conventia was holding a convention. Of course, despite the signs everywhere, Matvei had absolutely no idea what the convention was for.

“Oh. My. God,” Kitty exclaimed behind Matvei. “No way! This is my favorite show!”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Matvei asked, turning to squint at her.

“It's—this is a convention for this one really great pirate show that's like, my favorite! And I've heard the actress that plays the Pirate Queen Esmerelda is supposed to be here and everything!! The note all makes sense now, we're supposed to find her and, and give her some sort of sign, and she'll give us the location for the interview. Or maybe she's working with Kei herself and she'll show us backstage and—”

“Or,” Matvei interrupted, nudging Kitty and pointing to a figure moving about among the crowd, “We find the Pirate Queen we're supposed to be _working_ for.”

The figure, though there were only brief glimpses of her through the crowd, was unmistakeable. Matvei recognized the shade of her skin, her antennae... and now that he had her spotted, he could easily follow her movements through the crowd. She was wearing a distinctive hat with a bright red feather in it—most of the other convention goers were wearing things in various shades of green, presumably in honor of the pirate Esmerelda.

“Oh... right. Yeah, that's probably it,” Kitty replied sheepishly. “C'mon, let's go!” She grabbed Matvei's hand, which made him grimace, and then pulled him through the crowd. He winced repeatedly, snarling as she pulled him—she was doing it all wrong, making him bump into practically everyone on the way, until they emerged from the crowd dead in front of her.

Kei.

She looked just as imposing in reality as she had on the screen, and even though Matvei was taller than her, he felt cowed by her presence. It didn't help that she had a very tall cloaked figure hovering by her side. He lowered his gaze, flattening his ears and hunching his shoulders.

“Hi!” Kitty introduced with a grin. “We're—”

“Applying for the crew. I know. Here's the next location,” Kei said simply, holding out a piece of paper, which Kitty took.

Matvei snapped his head up, his four eyes widening and then narrowing.

“Thanks—hey! Wait!” Kitty called out as Kei and the hooded figure at her side turned and disappeared into the crowd.

“Another. Fuckin. Location. ARE YOU FUCKIN' KIDDING ME?” Matvei snapped, balling his hands into fists.

“Look, I'm sure it's just a safer place for an interview,” Kitty said, unfolding the piece of paper and reading it. “No clue this time. Just coordinates. Come on.”

“... What, you ain't gonna buy more pretty shit here?” Matvei growled, his tail lashing in irritation. “I thought you was all excited to be here.”

“I am... but a lot of convention merch is way overpriced. And the line's probably way too long anyways. Besides, it wasn't really that great of a show. Esmerelda was way too airheaded.” She smiled in a way that made Matvei sure she was just trying to accommodate him.

\--------------------

It took another day of travel until they arrived at a pretty little planet, still in the Irken galaxy, aptly named Suburbia. It was a homely little planet, well-groomed, well-taken care of; its sole purpose was to provide housing, its surface literally covered with networks and networks of apartments and housing complexes. Matvei had holed himself up in the kitchen again, only emerging from the kitchen until the ship once again came to a stop. Once that had happened, and Kitty hadn't come to get him, he wandered out and towards the cockpit... where he found Kitty simply sitting at the controls.

“What's the matter, you get cold feet? Scared of a little interview?”

“... this is where I live,” she said, her tone distant. “The coordinates were for the apartment building that I live in.”

“... Oh. Oh shit. How'd they...”

“I don't know. Why weren't there two coordinates, though? Why only my house?”

“You mean, why didn't they lead us to my house?” Matvei deadpanned. “You seriously think I could afford my own house? I don't _have_ a home. That's probably why they just put us here. They knew we'd been traveling together, and now it's easier to just interview us here. Now buck up and let's do this.”

“Look, you got your chance to be scared and now it's my chance. Okay? Get off my back,” Kitty said, getting to her feet and leading the way out the door.

Matvei followed her through the parking complex, then into the apartment building, through a series of halls, until they stood before a door. Kitty took a deep breath, unlocking the door.

“I'm sure we beat them here, so we'll just have to wait for them to get here,” Kitty said, swinging open the door.

The interior was a living room, fairly simplistic; the walls were plain white and the floor was a simple hardwood. It was the decorations that made it homely; pink sheer curtains surrounding the windows, the walls plastered with posters from what Matvei assumed were various shows Kitty watched, mixed in with posters of cute things, posters with words on them he couldn't read, a little shelf with figurines, a fluffy pink rug underneath a very plush black couch... and sitting on the couch was Kei herself sitting next to the hooded figure from before.

Kitty froze. Matvei took a step back, once again lowering his eyes.

“Welcome home,” Kei said with a grin. “Now let's start that interview.”


End file.
